


ashes;

by fated_addiction



Category: Korean Actor RPF, Mamamoo, Real Person Fiction, So Nyuh Shi Dae | Girls' Generation, 소녀시대 | Girls' Generation | SNSD
Genre: Alternate Universe - Police, Eventual Romance, F/F, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-26
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-04-28 05:41:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14442585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fated_addiction/pseuds/fated_addiction
Summary: It’s still unsettling when your oldest friend calls you a liar. With a smile.Taeyeon has always been a big believer in leaving the past behind.





	1. into the woods

**Author's Note:**

> Yes! This is a sequel to [breathing underwater](https://archiveofourown.org/works/13276884/chapters/30379500). I've been fighting myself on it for a while, but finally have the time to get it out. It's important that you read it before we get into this; mostly, there are some things that will carryover from the previous fic.
> 
> Anyways, all notes will be at the end of this fic when it's completed. Hope to see y'all along for the ride!

-

 

 

 

 

 

The coffee burns the roof of her mouth.

“Take a picture of me!”

A phone drops into Taeyeon’s hand. She fumbles; Tiffany already bounds off towards the wall, wrestling with the hem of her skirt and calling out positioning directions. Taeyeon rolls her eyes and puts her coffee down at her feet, shuffling forward.

“I can’t _stand_ you,” she calls out, rolling her eyes with compliance. Tiffany beams. “You said we were just having breakfast!”

The other woman grins. “Can’t resist a good floral wall!”

For once, Taeyeon thinks, it’s nice to do something stupid. She checks her watch. Tiffany catches her.

“I thought you didn’t have to go in until later?”

“It’s going to be later soon.” Taeyeon is dry. “I’m just checking the time. No rush.”

Tiffany scoffs. “Liar.”

Maybe she is. Taeyeon shrugs and hands back the phone, Tiffany grinning back across the screen. In an hour, Jessica will officially be settled into her new office. Back into her life. As quietly as she left. They haven’t seen each other since she’s come back; Taeyeon was invited to Soojung’s wedding, but couldn’t go and was informed by work email that Jessica was now going to head the behavioral unit in conjunction with Taeyeon and homicide. It doesn’t surprise her that this was the way she found out; they both are really, really good at falling out of touch, she thinks. Space, Jessica had called it. Except now, she’s back.

Tiffany touches her arm. “Sooyoung told me.”

Taeyeon scoffs.

“I asked?” Tiffany continues weakly. “You’ve been in a mood for weeks. Brunch was supposed to cheer you up.”

“You can’t do much,” Taeyeon says. She softens, shrugging as they begin to walk. “I’m not in a terrible mood though.”

“You’re worried.”

“I’m always worried.”

Tiffany frowns. “Your ex-girlfriend really affects you, huh?”

It’s an oversimplification of the nature of her relationship with Jessica. Taeyeon feels herself become defensive; her body strains itself, her hands digging into her jacket. She bites her lip. Next to her, Tiffany sighs.

“You’re mad.”

Taeyeon calms herself. “I’m not.” In front of her, the small street erupts into a crowd of tables and laughter. They pass another restaurant and Taeyeon finds her sunglasses in her pocket. “I’m really just trying to get by,” she finishes. “To be honest. Whether she’s back or not, whether we’re working together or not.”

Tiffany is beautiful. Everything is perfectly coiled into place: her hair, her smile, the creases of her clothes, and even the steady pace that keeps her walking at Taeyeon’s side. She even reaches out, her fingers grazing the inside of her wrist. A gap sinks into the back of Taeyeon’s mind; she thinks of Jessica and the last smile she had.

_Stop_ , she thinks. “I mean it,” she finishes.

It’s still unsettling when your oldest friend calls you a liar. With a smile.

“Whatever works,” Tiffany says.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Even the boxes are stacked too neatly to the side. “I have a problem,” Jessica confesses with a shrug, an acknowledgment of Taeyeon standing at the doorway.

She looks like a prosecutor, Taeyeon thinks. Instead of a police officer. Still, like she doesn’t belong. Tension crawls into her shoulders and she leans against the doorframe. Working in conjunction, she reminds herself. Due to the success of your last collaboration. All things that weigh heavily on Taeyeon’s mind. You almost died, she wants to say. Shake Jessica by the shoulders. She would have been okay had she not come back. Again.

She wasn't ready for this. Even though, it was never something she could have controlled. For her, Jessica is the unknown. Now, more than ever. She hates that. Just when she was starting to grasp and reorganize everything.

"You okay?"

Taeyeon clears her throat. She flushes, looking away. “How was the wedding?”

“Months ago.” Jessica seems bemused. Puts a book down on her desk. “Soojung said that you sent them a really nice present.”

“I felt bad.” She rubs the back of her neck. “It was the least I could do,” she murmurs.

“I see.”

Jessica’s stay in the hospital goes unsaid. Taeyeon studies her arm, then her leg. She swallows.

“Anyways,” Taeyeon clears her throat. “Do you need any help? With... stuff.” It's easier than saying: _are you feeling better?_

Jessica scoffs. “That’s a loaded question.” Taeyeon flushes; she can’t read Jessica’s expression. “But no,” she says. “I’m all right. I have a team meeting later. And then, I’m assuming we have a meeting later?”

“Yeah. Housekeeping stuff. I know you know most of my side -“

“Sure,” Jessica replies. “Moonbyul stopped by.”

“She did?”

Taeyeon tries to hide her surprise. A mysterious smile settles against Jessica’s mouth. She shrugs; Taeyeon hates it. Jealousy pits against her stomach.

“I -“

There’s a knock behind her. A young cadet stands nervously at her side, suddenly thrusting a slip of paper into her hand. It unfolds; Moonbyul’s sharp handwriting looks up. There’s a case. 

She groans. Of course, she thinks. She looks up and Jessica is suddenly in front of her, taking the piece of paper. Her expression changes and sets into something serious. It unnerves Taeyeon. _What were you thinking_ , she chastises herself. That they were going to talk. About everything.

“Well.” Jessica looks up at her. “So much for easing into this, huh?”

She’s smiling, and Taeyeon hates it, hates it because it seems so sharp, maybe too sharp and almost dangerous. It used to be a joke, you see. A well-rested Jessica is always the most dangerous person in the room.

“Together then?” Taeyeon asks. She fumbles for her keys in her pockets.

“Sure,” Jessica says.

It seems too easy.

 

 

 

 

 

The neighborhood is small.

Taeyeon parks the car next to a grove of trees. It’s eerie; the branches reach out like arms, scraping against the windows when Taeyeon tries to get out of the car. There are a number of houses, some gated, others not, each faces and graying into an odd sense obscurity. She doesn’t like it here, she thinks. Everything looks empty.

Jessica appears next to her. Nods. Then points out two officers stationed by the house in the end. She carries a pair of gloves with her. They start walking towards the house; Taeyeon transforms almost immediately, shoulders set back, mouth set into a frown.

“There’s no one around,” she murmurs.

Jessica hums. “It’s a little odd.”

But that’s as much as they acknowledge. Or can. The gravel starts to push against her heels as they walk past the gate, a slight nod to each officers that greet them. The house itself mirrors the state of the neighborhood; it’s empty and gray, in sound enough state to not be considered falling apart, but there are piles of trash bags that are stacked against the walls. A bicycle sits in the doorframe. It’s missing a tire and covered by a limp piece of police tape.

Taeyeon spots Moonbyul at the door. She paused, jerks her hand to the other side, motioning that there might be a secondary entrance.

“The house looks abandoned.”

Jessica is following her. Taeyeon shrugs. “The whole neighborhood is empty.”

“That’s not what I meant,” Jessica replies, but doesn’t elaborate.

They reach a back door. Jessica moves in first, immediately making a beeline for the body. It’s a male, half covered in a sheet. The body is slumped against a set of cabinets and coming into view, Taeyeon is nearly horrified enough to see that the man is missing a chunk of his head. She stares, wide-eyed.

“Weapon?”

Moonbyul appears, grim. “Nothing yet. Coroner says he more than likely didn’t die here.”

“What?” Taeyeon blinks.

“He’s been dead at least two days.” She tucks a hair behind her ear and smiles in greeting at Jessica. Taeyeon feels her stomach sink a little. But Moonbyul continues. “The coroner will know more once we get the body back to the morgue.”

Jessica moves in from behind them, kneeling by the body. She puts her gloves on carefully. Then turns her fingers into the man’s hair, guiding them through the head wound. Her mouth falls flat into a frown.

“There are still pieces of metal in the injury,” she says.

"Like a pipe?"

"That's an assumption."

Taeyeon's mouth twists. "You don't make assumptions."

Jessica lets out a startled, little laugh. "A metal pipe isn't the only way to bash someone's head in."

Behind them, Moonbyul scoffs. "You guys need to work on your flirting."

It's easier to ignore the comment. Even as heat crawls against Taeyeon's face. She ignores her and ignores the small, slight smile on Jessica's face as she works.

Taeyeon still takes a step forward next, standing on the other side of the body. She looks around: there’s nothing but dust, heavy dust, and large, gilded spider webs. The more she looks, the more uninhabitable the house becomes. There are papers everywhere. Newspapers. Mail. Some pieces are yellow and curling.

Moonbyul opens her notepad. “This area is set to be demolished in a few weeks,” she says. “They’re going to put a mall here.”

Taeyeon snorts. She remains serious. “You think he was placed here -“

“Most likely?” Moonbyul remains amused. "I don't want to _assume_."

Jessica stands. Suddenly. She carries a driver’s license, her arm stretching it out to hand it to Moonbyul. Not Taeyeon.

“I know where this is,” she says. Then she looks at Taeyeon. “So do you.”

“What?”

A driver’s license is such a nondescript piece of information. Even the photo, she thinks, tells you nothing - a person is a person. Weight. Height. Current or previous address. It’s a cold way of classifying a person as a person.

But her eyes move to the address. “Isn’t that -“

“Mmm.” 

Jessica’s eyes are dark. Her mouth opens and starts to take shape. There are words, but Taeyeon’s ears are ringing. She stares at the address in her hand.

If it were any other person, she’d say things like I’m okay or sure, let’s go because it would give her time to process. To understand. To give herself a second to breathe. But in her head, the address becomes a house. A large house. With wide, open windows. There’s the distinct smell of lavender and it flares up underneath her nose, staining her skin like a ghost or a scar. Because both are really the same thing.

Taeyeon blinks. Jessica is next to her again. Closer this time. Her fingers touch the inside of Taeyeon’s wrist, sweeping against her skin.

“It’s my old neighborhood,” she finishes. Finally. Each word scratching against her throat.

Everybody has ghosts.

 

 

 

 

 

It’s an hour drive.

Moonbyul chases a secondary lead with Hyoyeon. There’s no trail yet, but Jessica spends the better part of the drive sending orders to a few of her own team members, names that Taeyeon only vaguely remembers. It’s a distraction, after all.

The knots in her stomach are swimming painfully. She’s grasping at her rational; coincidences are still possible, even apparent. She’s just never believed in them.

“You should stop by my place for dinner.”

Taeyeon blinks. Coughs. Then reaches for her rest stop coffee too, slurping noisily.

“What?”

“Yah, Kim Taeyeon-ssi. Let me remind you how bad of a liar you are.”

She glances quickly. Jessica’s head is resting lightly against the car window.

“I’m fine,” she answers. “I’m not thinking too much about it. It’s not like -“ She stops and doesn’t say _seohyun_ ; at least, not out loud. It's like an old scar. 

But Jessica does.

“Don’t give her any more power,” she murmurs. “Seohyun, as it is, was never interested this way. You saw the head injury. That’s pure rage. Seohyun... was never that abrasive.”

There’s too much logic behind Jessica’s voice. It’s sharp and cool. Concise in a way that she doesn’t remember. It’s different this time, she thinks. Everything feels different.

“Are you settled?” Taeyeon clears her throat and changes the subject. “In your new place?”

Jessica’s mouth twitches. “Yes.” She goes with it. “I’m renting Soojungie’s place until I find something I like. So not too settled.”

“Oh.” She blinks. She wants to ask: _were you going to tell me you were coming back?_ But her mouth is dry and her head feels like it’s spinning already, almost out of control.

“I don’t like rushing into things.”

Taeyeon snorts. “Isn’t that more me?” It feels like a dig. “Not rushing into things?”

“It’s not necessarily a bad thing.” Jessica shrugs. She turns her gaze to the road. “I’ve always been pretty particular with my money.”

“I remember,” Taeyeon murmurs.

They fall back into an uneasy silence. Taeyeon can picture the driver’s license again. She tries to picture the neighborhood; her mind erupts into a mess of memories and a map, picking apart the small corner she grew up on. There was an apple tree. An old woman lived at the end, between two oak trees and a gate that was falling over. In her mind, she sees it in the summer, long blades of grass and weeds.

But then they’re there, here, she corrects herself. The car slows into a turn. Down a ramp. Around a long back road. The further they go, the trees seem to grow in numbers, smothering the car overhead. There are brisk moments of the sun sneaking out, between the leaves and against the car, but Taeyeon shivers, even as she finds the house and parks the car right in front.

“I’ve seen this movie.”

Taeyeon snorts. “You don’t watch scary movies.”

“My sister does,” Jessica replies back. Quickly even. Enough to earn a smile from Taeyeon.

The house still sits on a hill. It’s the only one; the grouping of trees ultimately deceiving, a large gap folding into what seems to be the yard, a neat yard. There is a wild line of tulips. Baskets of fruits that have started to rot. The air is permeated by this sweet, sickly smell; Taeyeon feels her hand rest at her hip, hovering around her holster.

“No one’s here,” Jessica murmurs. Touches her arm.

“You don’t know that,” she snaps back. It’s just a feeling.

Jessica shakes her head. “It smells like decomposition.”

She then bounds off without warning. Taeyeon feels her throat crack, but she can’t stop her anyway. There’s a weird sense of hesitation; she still follows. It’s Jessica.

Then they’re inside the house.

 

 

 

 

 

The first time you see a dead body, you ultimately know it’s not going to be the last. There’s a weird sense of acceptance, acknowledgment that you, you too, have suffered through a loss. It’s something you’ll never forget after that either; Taeyeon knows she’s haunted by a lot of things.

The house inside is going to be another ghost.

It’s grisly. The blood on the walls seem endless. Across corners, seeping into furniture. Dried and wet and too much for just one person. The smell makes her head a little fuzzy. She reaches out for Jessica, who grabs her first anyway, steadying her with a grim, even expression. Her grip is heavy and Taeyeon finds herself breathing slowly, steadying her vision. _Let it go_ , she thinks.

But then they see the body.

It’s a woman. Half her body is slumped into a different room. Her nightgown is thrusted over her legs. Taeyeon lets go of Jessica and steps closer, kneeling by the body.

“Can you call?”

“Yeah.” 

Jessica steps back. She doesn’t leave; her voice drops into a murmur as she calls for help for the scene. Taeyeon only focuses on the body though; it’s disorienting, the woman’s eyes are open and wide, almost as if she were alive and greeting them into her house. There are defensive wounds in the palms of her hands. The gash is severe, but the blood has dried and sunk into her nails.

There was an old woman, she thinks. It’s a vague thought; Taeyeon’s gaze wanders over her hair, graying at the crown of her head. There’s no blood. Then, it’s Jessica’s hands on her shoulders, gentle and warm.

“There was an old woman,” Taeyeon hears herself say. Her voice cracks. She swallows. “I remember - growing up, we used to dare each other to try and come into this house. It was like a fairy tale dare... you know, like the witch in Hansel and Gretel.”

Jessica guides her into standing. “This isn’t her?” It’s a leading question. “Let’s wait outside -“

Childhood memories are cruel. She doesn’t remember seeing the woman, but it’s affecting her. Taeyeon can only nod. Jessica’s hand settles against her back. She’s only vaguely embarrassed, but Jessica’s fingers sway and turn, steadying her at each step. Guiding her through.

Outside, Taeyeon breathes. And memories start to crawl out from the back of her head. Jessica doesn't move her hand. Keeps it against her back, her fingers stroking in small, lazy circles.

“Our parents used to say that a lot of bad things happened in this house,” she says. "I remember it sounding like neighborhood gossip... you know, the kind that parents always fall into?"

Jessica is quiet. Taeyeon’s gaze settles on the tulips, lining against the gate in a neat row.

“We used to laugh it off,” she continues. The air swallows against her throat. Her breathing begins to even. “They were our parents, you know? We were kids. Of course, the old lady that lived at the neighborhood was going to be creepy.”

Finally, Jessica’s expression changes into something pensive and sharp. The yard seems to grow into something wilder, large and almost ominous. Taeyeon shifts and leans back into Jessica. Selfishly, maybe. Maybe more of an unconscious movement. 

Jessica remains close. “I don’t like this,” she says.

Taeyeon can’t say it; the woman in the house is someone else.


	2. glass breaks glass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _The cigarettes sit on her desk._
> 
> Taeyeon has always been a big believer in leaving the past behind.

-

 

 

 

 

 

 

The cigarettes sit on her desk.

It's an accident. Usually, she keeps them in drawer of her desk. It's locked. Mostly, it's a good excuse for guilt.

“You smoke now?”

Jessica's voice frames the doorway. Taeyeon looks up. Blinks. Then she looks away, reaching for a pen, fingering the cap.

“No,” Taeyeon lies. And sits at her desk, closing her laptop. There are several emails with photos from the crime scene waiting. “It’s an adult version of a security blanket.”

Jessica looks unimpressed. “Whatever you say.”

She doesn’t leave. Taeyeon needs a minute. But Jessica moves to sit in one of the conference seats right by her desk, checking her watch and then settling against the chair. To wait for results. Or maybe because she doesn’t want to be alone. Taeyeon doesn’t want to speculate and yet, here she is.

It’s just that the scene replays itself in her head. They lived in that neighborhood until she was about six, she thinks. Her dad got a new job. Her mother wanted to send them to different schools. But none of that links back to the dead woman in the house, or the man that was found an hour away.

“There was a shaman,” she says suddenly, her eyes squeezing shut. She recalls the memory slowly. “I have this memory of... all the parents not wanting us to see her. That’s why we used to dare each other to go to the house.”

“Did you?”

Taeyeon blinks. “What?”

“Go to the house,” Jessica says. “As a kid.”

She studies her. “Don’t tell me you believe in that stuff.”

Jessica’s mouth curls. “I have a healthy respect. You know that.”

“Maybe.” Then Taeyeon is petty. For the distraction. “I forget that I know a lot of things about you,” she says.

Jessica barely flinches. She leans back. Produces a file from out of nowhere. Taeyeon then remembers they were cornered at the elevator. Someone from her team had passed it on.

“If we’re going to fight,” Jessica murmurs. “Let’s do it over dinner.”

Taeyeon snorts. “Seriously?”

“You’ve been on edge since we left the scene. You’re personalizing something that just started without stepping back to look at the evidence so far. You’re mad at me because I told you I needed space.” Jessica looks up, her hair sweeping against her face. “But let’s talk about it on personal time.”

“Easier said than done.”

“I’m not  _going_  anywhere.”

Taeyeon is petty enough to reply back. To say something that is just enough to get under Jessica’s skin. Knowing that Jessica is still very much  _jessica_. Maybe unapologetically so.

It just bothers her. She hates that it does. Hates that Jessica is able to put everything aside.  _You almost died_ , she wants to say. She doesn’t say anything though.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Jessica repeats. Quietly.

“Whatever.” Taeyeon frowns. She flips open the laptop. “We should work,” she says instead.

Her heart is pounding.

 

 

 

 

 

There is another shaman nearby.

Taeyeon is against the idea, once suggested. But Jessica is already on her way out, later that day. Keys in hand. Because this may or may not have something to do with the two dead bodies on hand.

“I can go with her,” Moonbyul murmurs. Maybe amused. Next to her, Hyoyeon rolls her eyes. It goes unsaid:  _she has a team, you know_. Either that, or both women are humoring her. But Taeyeon is already reaching for her jacket. “Hyoyeon-ssi can do the interview solo,” she adds.

Hyoyeon narrows her eyes. “I can?”

“Stop,” Taeyeon snorts. The cigarettes are still sitting on her desk. She hesitates and then grabs them, shoving the packet into her jacket pocket. “Call me if anything useful happens.”

She ignores the snickers from both women, heading out to meet Jessica at the car.

Her brain still decides to start sorting out what she knows. Two dead bodies. No relation. Two different neighborhoods. It’s been hard to think of a connection, mostly because it’s Jessica, it’s the fact the last time they worked together it was a  _serial_  and it was so incredibly personal, you can’t help but wonder if she is going to lose it anyway.

“It’s not far,” Jessica greets.

Taeyeon is nearly startled. “I don’t know how I feel about this,” she mutters.

“You don’t have to come.”

“I know.”

Jessica’s mouth curls, but she says nothing.

For the most part, they remain quiet on the drive. There are a billion questions Taeyeon has; they melt together. Is she personalizing this? Should she take herself out of the equation? Both Moonbyul and Hyoyeon are completely capable of carrying this case alone. She leans back. Eyes closed. Her mouth twists when Jessica turns on the radio and starts to hum a long with whatever song it is. And yet, she thinks, here she is.

The radio picks up. It makes her sleepy. Jessica’s voice tunes into something softer. It’s been awhile, she thinks. Hates that she thinks that. Hates that she’s not surprised she’s falling into these things this easily.

“I think I’m tired.”

“What?”

Jessica still doesn’t seem surprised; instead, Taeyeon finds herself continuing.

“Of this,” she says quietly. “Of seeing the worst of people constantly.  _Consistently_. If I didn’t do this...”

Jessica doesn’t say anything. Taeyeon trails off, almost waiting for her to interject. But she doesn’t. Taeyeon’s eyes open. Slowly. She turns her head and Jessica is wearing a slight frown. Her knuckles are white against the steering wheel.

“You sound like you’re feeling sorry for yourself.” It’s blunt. It’s Jessica.

But Taeyeon feels herself buckle. Just a little bit.

“You haven’t been here,” she bites. Her voice is sharp and grasping. She’s uneven. And suddenly, she’s lashing out. “You’ve been around me for a day and suddenly you’re an expert - that doesn’t work this way.”

“Neither does feeling sorry for yourself.”

That’s it then. Jessica’s words soft and poignant. She never once turns to look at Taeyeon either. Maybe to punish her. Maybe not. It still feels like it though. In a horribly, self-indulgent kind of way. Taeyeon hates herself for it too. For getting mad. For feeling uneven. This is not who you are, she tells herself.

Still, without anything to say back.

Her mouth is dry.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The apartment building is a complete change from what she expects.

There’s no house on a hill. Instead, the shaman uses a store front. Coupons and posters are peeling off the glass windows and entrance. There is a mess of boxes in the corner, leading into a dark alleyway. It's slightly unnerving; Taeyeon stops and studies the pathway. It could be small, she thinks. Then moves her gaze to the window frames, studying the dust that's gathering at the edges. It looks like, she thinks, no one has been here in ages.

Jessica still steps inside first, Taeyeon behind her with her eyes everywhere. There are files and envelopes, a couple with a  _past due_  stamp that is way too visible. The pile of papers give way to more papers, some spilling out of boxes. It smells like dust and wet paper too. She stops in front of a cluster of talismans against a desk and over the wall, the edges peeling. She’s uneasy and hears Jessica greet someone somewhere behind her. Her gaze still hovers over the grouping of talismans. They look hurried, she thinks. Panicked, maybe. And somewhere deep inside of her, she thinks  _familiar_  too.

“ - we have a few questions,” she hears Jessica finish. Her ears are ringing.

Out of nowhere, the shaman appears. A woman. Completely unremarkable at best. She’s older. In her seventies, Taeyeon guesses. She bows her head in greeting. Her skin is sagging. Her mouth is dig into a thin line. She reaches for a cane by a desk, but offers no place to sit.

“You attract a lot of energy.”

The old woman is cold - at least, as far as first impressions go. Her gaze is glued to Jessica; sharp eyes, a slight mouth, and her posture immediately changes. Her shoulders rise back. She seems expectant.

“They told me you were coming today,” the shaman continues. She smiles ruefully. “All of the sudden, I had to scrub my floors.”

Jessica smiles. It doesn’t quite reach her eyes though. “I’m sorry,” she says. She looks at Taeyeon, then back at the old woman. “I feel like we’ve imposed -“

“Nonsense. Ask your questions.”

Taeyeon jerks forward. She slides a photo of both bodies, sunken faces and closed eyes in front of the woman. She taps on the corner.

“Have you met these two at all?” She clears her throat. It feels awkward. “Clients, neighbors -“

“Not neighbors,” the old woman cuts in. Jessica scoffs. “Not mine.” She taps the photo of the man. “He’s still bad news. He has a hard face.”

"A hard face?"

The shaman leans against a bookshelf. It separates her from Jessica, but leans her closer to Taeyeon. The old woman smiles.

"He has a hard face," she repeats. "But you'll figure it out," she says off-handedly.

Taeyeon opens her mouth to reply, but Jessica beats her. She smiles a little. Maybe even ruefully.

“Hopefully,” Jessica says dryly. “But -“ she pauses, mimicking the old woman. She taps the photo. “Is he connected to the woman?” Taeyeon watches her stare down the shaman uneasily. “Do you know the woman?”

“I like you,” the older woman smirks. “I can see why  _they_  like you.”

“That doesn’t answer my question, ajumma.”

That smirk dives into something different, darker and with weight. It rattles Taeyeon; Jessica remains unfazed - or is and the feels hide behind how calmly she sits. Jessica’s question is still respectful, polite, but it’s also reproachful, in a deeply, unsettling way.

The old woman leans forward then. Takes Jessica’s hands in both of her own.

“Everyone knows someone,” she says. “That’s unavoidable. What you need to be concern is with her.”

Taeyeon should be angry about the response. She’s annoyed. Will be annoyed. But there’s something about putting that statement in the air; it’s heavy and suddenly, Taeyeon is greeted by flashbacks of Jessica from before: bleeding out, in the hospital, saying things like  _i need time_  with no explanation.

But Jessica remains even keel, breathing out some kind of amused smile.

“Thank you for your time,” she says.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It takes awhile for the encounter to settle.

The picture of the old woman re-emergences in her head, coming together in strange flashes. She sees the wrinkles around her eyes, her mouth. The odd disdain that she wore looking at them. _I have a healthy respect_ , Jessica had said. Taeyeon still feels uneasy.

“Do you believe her?”

Taeyeon is driving back. She doesn’t remember how this happened either; Jessica stopped them for coffee and the keys ended up in her hand. Her fingers curl tightly around the steering wheel, adjusting slightly.

“The shaman?” Jessica shakes her head. “No,” she answers sleepily. She leans back in her seat. “But I don’t think she doesn’t know anything either.”

“We barely saw anything?”

“We didn’t need to.”

“Why are you being cryptic?” Taeyeon narrows her eyes. “I don’t understand.”

“One of my guys is going to tail her.”

“But you don’t think she knows anything,” Taeyeon protests. It might be the whole day and her unease from all of this. She’s not superstitious, but she does trust her gut. “Don’t be  _cryptic_ ,” she nearly snaps. Rubs her eyes.

Jessica shakes her head. “I think,” she says. Almost carefully. Which seems to grate at Taeyeon. “I think that it’s a much smaller world and I’m fully willing to admit that I watch too many dramas - but the woman was too cold, too withdrawn, and the scene itself was scarce. Honestly, I’m pretty sure she was catering to the possibility that you and I were doing a routine stop.”

“So you don’t believe her.”

“I don’t discount her,” Jessica says.

Taeyeon’s mouth dries. Jessica never says anything lightly. That much she can admit to. It’s unavoidable in any context. A deep, unsettling feeling begins to rise again, swaying against her stomach and uncurling against her fingers on the steering wheel.

She’s not a liar either.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The cigarette taste in her mouth is heavy.

Memories are funny sometimes. Alone later, Taeyeon stretches and avoids paperwork. Finds herself outside on the roof. Her pack of cigarettes are tucked onto the ledge. Ready to fall off onto the streets below in a panicked denial. She quit months ago. At least, this is what she told herself. They're a security blanket. But every time, she thinks, she falls into this hard, cold sense of self-doubt. They feel sticky in her mouth.

The city is still quiet. The scope of it stretches out into a mix of lights, the fading day, and people coming in and out of the station. Taeyeon sighs. You spend too much time this way, she scolds herself. She can feel the taste of smoke start to etch itself into the roof of her mouth again, bringing the cigarette in her hand to her mouth again.

“It’s a coincidence,” she says, out loud.

She had even called her mother. Asked about the neighborhood. About the old woman, maybe the man - nothing triggered anything though. There were always rumors about someone, her mother merely relayed. Which doesn’t make this any easier.

It’s then that her mind starts to wander to Seohyun. She still checks up on her. Doesn’t visit. Gets weekly checks in from her new doctor. Mostly, it’s about how engaging and brilliant she is. How the facility has reinvented their security. She wonders what Seohyun would say about all of this. She’d laugh, Taeyeon thinks. Her stomach twists. The whole thing would amuse her.

“It’s a scam.”

Taeyeon blinks. Behind her, Moonbyul appears, unamused and unimpressed. She looks tired. Her keys are in hand too.

“The old woman was dealing,” she says. “It wasn’t her hub - but the creepy, old house was the meeting place.”

“Drugs?”

Moonbyul steps closer. Her nose wrinkles. She seems to spot Taeyeon’s cigarette.

“Part of it,” she still answers. “Hyoyeon is following the money. There seems to be a loan service involved too.”

Taeyeon’s shoulders sag. It feels like relief. “Is that it?”

“No. It’s still a little early to tell. Neither body has been identified yet. We do have a pair of fake names. It feels a little too clean.”

“I don’t like when you say that,” Taeyeon mutters and Moonbyul snorts.

She picks up the pack of cigarettes though. Stares at it. The cellophane edges are starting to fringe. She considers pushing it off the building. She just swallows.

“I’m going to go home to my wife for a couple of hours. Before she kills me.” Moonbyul cuts in and startles her. She’s smiling in amusement. Yawns. She nods at the cigarette in Taeyeon’s hand. “There are better things to do.”

“Stop.” Taeyeon rolls her eyes. “I don’t want to know.”

“Chocolate, for one.” Moonbyul counts off on her fingers. “Running, boxing - any exercise, really. Cooking. Meditation.” She smirks. “ _Sex_.”

Taeyeon glares. “Seriously?”

“I mean, it’s always an option.”

“I’m not responding to this.” Her face feels out. “And you really should mind your damn business,” she mutters, rubbing her eyes.

“Hard to? You’re like a damn open book,  _sunbae_ ,” Moonbyul shoots back. “It’s not a secret that you’re in a mood and who that mood is about.”

Taeyeon puts her cigarette out against the wall. Watches it crumble against her fingers and feels spiteful. She breathes, biting her lip. She’s not going to say anything. Don’t dignify it, she tells herself.

“Brat,” she mutters instead.

Moonbyul shrugs. They both turn towards the roof exit. Taeyeon pulls her phone out of her pocket. Missed messages from the lab, she realizes. There’s a couple texts from Jessica too. She sighs.

“My head hurts.”

“You never do anything you don’t want to do,” Moonbyul points out. They enter the stairwell and she stops short, grunting when Taeyeon runs right into her.

Taeyeon grunt back. Rubs her chest. Her eyes widen when she spots Jessica leaning against the wall, arms crossed and file between them. Moonbyul clears her throat and smirks, nodding at Jessica and waving at Taeyeon, even rolling her eyes as Taeyeon fumbles awkwardly with her hands. She touches her jacket. Her hips. Tries to listen to Moonbyul walk down the stairs. She hates that her nerves are so quick to unravel.

“How long were you standing there?”

Jessica shrugs. “Long enough,” she says. But doesn’t continue. She hands over the file.

“What’s this?” And Taeyeon sees a little crack in Jessica’s mask. A frown dips into her mouth and her nose wrinkles. Taeyeon ignores her and opens the file. “It’s the guy -“

“It’s the guy.”

It takes her a moment to process that the file in hand is actually a personnel file. From the institution. Her mouth drops and she starts fishing through the file, the pads of her fingers cutting into the edges.

“Park Jihoon,” she murmurs. Swallows. “He’s a night guard at the institution -“

“I don’t believe in coincidences.”

Taeyeon looks sharply. “You think it has something to do with Seohyun.”

“No.” Jessica tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “But I can’t think that it has anything to do with her either. Driving the case in that way would be irresponsible.”

“This -“

Jessica rolls her eyes. “Stop panicking.”

“I’m not.” Taeyeon grounds her heels into a nearby step. The top of the stairwell seems endless; she turns, looks, and sways a little. “I just think that it’s a little convenient...”

Jessica pushes off the wall. Moves to stand in front of Taeyeon who, if anything, drops down to another step. For distance, she tells herself.

“I’m not asking you to go see her,” Jessica says quietly. “And you know that.”

“You’re distracting me,” Taeyeon blurts, mumbles really. She’s wide-eyed and almost trembling. “Stop.”

Jessica snorts, hovering. She pokes Taeyeon in the middle of her forehead. Her finger gently slides over her brows too and she laughs, shifting Taeyeon’s sharp anger into something that feel like mild irritation. Her face feels hot, but she breathes.

And in the days that she’s been here, this feels like the first time Taeyeon has looked at Jessica, really looked at Jessica. It’s disorienting. Gone is the last time she actually saw her - in the hospital, bag at her feet, exhaustion and resignation written into her face almost permanently. It was devastating, in a quiet way, as if Taeyeon had single-handedly taken part in bringing Jessica to that point. Guilt, she thinks, is an ugly, ugly thing.

“There you are,” Jessica murmurs. Seriously. Her mouth twists. “I was wondering when you were going to show up.”

“I hate you.” Taeyeon swallows. "Seriously."

“No, you don’t.” Jessica mimics her. " _Seriously_."

Her stomach drops and Jessica’s mouth shapes into a smile, maybe, more like an almost smile. But it’s a smile and there’s a flutter in Taeyeon’s belly, deep and unsteady. She reaches forward, despite everything in her, screaming desperately for her to stop. Her fingers touch the side of Jessica’s face. Her cheek. Her jaw. Then she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear.

_I don’t know what I’m doing_ , she almost says. Feels like confessing.

Instead, she sighs. “Okay,” Taeyeon says. “Let’s go... back.”

Jessica nods.

Taeyeon squeezes her fingers over her cigarettes, holding onto them as they head back to their floor. She drops them and Jessica picks them up wordlessly. Taeyeon swallows and says nothing more. Can’t. Even though there’s an ache in her throat and something that feels like embarrassment too. She ignores it and fumbles with her phone instead. Let it go, she tells herself. Let it go.

Outside, Jessica throws the cigarettes away.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Even still, the institution remains ominous._
> 
> Taeyeon has always been a big believer in leaving the past behind.

-

 

 

 

 

 

Even still, the institution remains ominous.

Jessica leans against the car, studying the backdrop as Taeyeon wraps up a call. Neither of them mention the mess of tulips or streamers in the front, or the large _welcome families!_ sign that seems to droop off the front entrance. Taeyeon watches as a deep frown changes Jessica’s expression. Good, she thinks. She’s not the only one that doesn’t trust the scene either.

The building seems much older than the last time they were here too. And suddenly, an older man emerges from the front, white lab coat draped over an arm and a file in another. He greets Taeyeon with a slight nod, his mouth curling with barely disguised disdain. Jessica, on the other hand, gets something akin to mild curiosity.

“Dr. Jung,” he says, offering the file.

Jessica’s mouth turns. “Dr. Kim,” she returns. She studies him. “I didn’t know you worked here, sunbae.”

The man scoffs. “I’m doing a case study for a couple of months. New research.”

“New research?”

Taeyeon looks between the two of them. Her mouth opens, but Jessica beats her and hands her the file.

It’s nothing extensive. Park Jihoon was born on this day. His work history is predictable. Dropped out of college. Recent address. Last paycheck. She frowns.

“He was fired?”

Dr. Kim looks away from Jessica. “A month ago,” he answers. His brow furrows. “And you are?”

He’s rude and uncompromising. Taeyeon barely blinks before shoving her badge forward. She maintains an expression. _I don’t have to tell you_ , she nearly says. Jessica’s fingers touch her wrist and Taeyeon feels herself breathe.

“Anything we should be concerned about?” She continues, tucking her hair behind her ear. Her eyes scan the file. “Disciplinary actions?”

“There were some concerns,” Dr. Kim murmurs.

“Concerns?” Jessica’s voice interjects.

“He had a pretty volatile personality, combative at best. We’ve had some incidents with some of our more... dangerous patients and him.”

If anything, being ambiguous is something that serves to piss Taeyeon off even more. There’s a sharp, metallic taste that sticks to the roof of her mouth. She stares at the tall, thin man and her annoyance seems to grow.

“There are dead bodies, sunbae.”

Jessica’s voice is soft. She touches Taeyeon’s arm. The man's expression remains unchanged. Guilt by association, she thinks.

"And if you could point us in the direction of someone who could actually answer questions for us... that would be great."

Jessica is pointed. Taeyeon hates and admires that. She turns her head. Exhales, rubbing her arms as she steps away. To put some distance between them, she thinks. It's the place. Her eyes dart around and she feels more than just unease, she feels as if the institution is alive. Between them, where they stand, there is a pair of walls that they've seemingly wandered to. She can see cars in the parking lot and an iron fence. It's the greenery though, that edges the place into something bordering insanity. Leaves and vines seem to creep into corners, rolling against each stone. Some branches are snapped and she sighs, shaking her head.

She thinks of Seohyun and hates herself.

"He's going to get the incident reports."

Jessica's voice startles her. "Do you think that will help?" Taeyeon frowns, rubbing the back of her neck.

"We have two dead bodies," Jessica murmurs. She turns and leans against the wall, studying Taeyeon. "It'll give us something."

"Do you trust him?"

The words are out of Taeyeon's mouth before she can think about it. Jessica seems surprised, her mouth thinning into a line. She shares a small shrug.

"Not really," she admits. "He wasn't the greatest professor, but he's someone that values his reputation. So if he doesn't want the attention, he's going to give us what we need."

"He could alter -"

Jessica snorts. "He's full of himself, not stupid."

In the distance, there is the sound of laughter. It's a chorus; Taeyeon spots a nurse leading a group of patients into the gardens, waving her hands around with a bright smile. There's something sharp and uneasy that presses into her throat. It's nothing what she expects though, a group of patience being paraded into an activity. There's a range of people - some old, some young. Some hold hands. Some straggle from behind. Next to her, Jessica exhales and they both notice Seohyun without acknowledging it to each other.

It doesn't matter who sees her first. Seohyun is engraved into Taeyeon's memory as she stands now, dressed in stark white. Her hair is pulled back neatly. Her smile is warm. But it's her eyes, it's always her eyes, dark and unapologetic.

"Is that..."

"Yeah." Taeyeon isn't sure who asks or answers first. "That's her."

They both watch Seohyun wave. 

There's nothing to say after all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It's dark by the time they get to the rest stop.

Jessica buys a coffee, Taeyeon buys herself a water. They sit at a table by the door, staring at each other. This is hard, Taeyeon thinks. She's not entirely sure where to begin. If there's anything to say.

Then, suddenly, Jessica is smiling.

"This is ridiculous," she says. Then she starts to laugh. Taeyeon looks at her with unease. "You have to admit," she says. "That all of this, us doing _this_ -" she waves a hand between them, "it's silly that we're doing this again."

"Is that what I said -"

She's automatically jumping into self-preservation mode, but Jessica is laughing again. "I'm telling you that you're right," she mutters. She openly studies Taeyeon. Taeyeon draws her shoulders up. "Don't get weird," Jessica waves her off. "I think it just hit me now. That I'm back and it feels weird, but less weird - if that makes any sense?"

Taeyeon scoffs. Or laughs. Maybe both. "Sure," she mutters.

They stumble into a silence. Taeyeon looks around the rest stop. There's plenty of people: families cluster into larger tables, a line forms at one of the stands and just outside the bathroom, a small group of women gossiping. Nothing seems out of the ordinary, but she doesn't trust the sentiment.

"Do you ever catch yourself," Taeyeon starts, "looking at something completely normal, then not trusting them - I try not to see that. See the worst in people... because what kind of person does that make me?"

Jessica is quiet. Taeyeon meets her gaze. She seems careful, suddenly, and the sharp turn of her mouth flattens into a sigh. Her eyes close and Jessica finally shrugs.

"I think there's no way not to," she murmurs. "We come into contact with all kinds of people - good, bad, awful. I mean, that's really just skimming the surface of it all, you know? At some point, you just reconcile with it. But it doesn't make you a bad person. Maybe it makes you harder. Or jaded. Or just ..." She fades off and Taeyeon watches Jessica look away, biting her lip. "It doesn't make you a bad person," she repeats.

"Then why didn't you -"

She stops. Because she's surprised. At herself, you know. The words just sort of roll out, tipping against her tongue until she stops herself. Her teeth sink into her lip and her eyes widen just a little bit.

"Call you?" Jessica is amused. Her mouth twitches and she shrugs. "I could give you a million reasons. I needed space. This wasn't about you. It couldn't be about you." Jessica's expression changes. It's unreadable, but her eyes are steady and clear, brighter than Taeyeon remembers them to be. It makes her uneasy. "And maybe it was selfish. Maybe I should have been clear. But it couldn't be about you and I couldn't stay. I wasn't -"

Taeyeon jerks forward. To stop her, probably. But her hand gropes over Jessica's and presses her fingers against her knuckles. Then, out of habit, an old habit, she curls her fingers into her palm and squeezes. 

"It's okay," she hears herself say, but that's mostly for herself to hear. "It's okay."

Jessica lets her have that, at least.

She doesn’t move her hand.

 

 

 

 

 

 

He's a ghost.

It's funny, thinking about it. Sometimes, he even tries to say it out loud. 

"I'm a ghost, no one can see me - no one can _see_ me. No one wants to see me. What can I do?"

Somehow, it becomes a game this way. You steal money from your parents. You push the girl that rejected you close to the stairs at school. Just to see if she'll jump or fall or _snap_. It's just to see how far he can go. 

"I didn't mean to kill you," he says. Hovers over the body. "I didn't."

There's been no one in the shop for hours. That was a happy accident. He had only meant to walk to the market and had spotted the sign, a giant neon crystal ball. It snaps somewhere behind him, the light twitching against the wall. Cards are strewn all over the floor, some spotted with blood. The old man's neck hangs over the majority of the pile; the blood is finally dried around his mouth. He's never believed in this anyway, Jihoon reasons. The stars, the moon, the qualities of the universe. He was the last appointment anyway.

Jihoon still sits back at the table though, occupying the seat the old man held. There's a large book opened over the table, the pages yellowed with age. A family heirloom, the man told him.

"We wouldn't have been here had you been honest," he continues. "That's the problem - no one's been honest about me. About where I'm going. And I've been willing to here _everything_ , the good and bad. But no one's wanted to tell me. That's why I get angry so easily."

He leans forward, sweeping his hand into the old man's hair. He pats him gently like a child. Smiles to himself bears his teeth. It's going to be okay, he thinks. He has to have patience.

It's a virtue.

He won’t be Jihoon for much longer as it is.

 

 

 

 

 

 

" _What_?"

Taeyeon barks into the phone. Her voice is grainy. Her vision clears and she realizes she's fallen asleep in the office again. Pressing her phone into her ear, she rubs the back of her neck.

"What's wrong?" She corrects herself. Hyoyeon's voice cracks on the other line. Taeyeon squints. "What?"

" - another body," the other woman clarifies. A door slams. She hears a car skid by. Hyoyeon snorts. "At a psychic stand," she says. "It's pretty brutal. There's literally blood, like, _everywhere_."

"Text me the directions and Dr. Jung -"

"Already here," Hyoyeon answers. "Forensics called her."

Taeyeon's expression is dark, but she ignores the unsettled feeling that uncurls in her stomach. She folds her wrist against her stomach. Your nerves, she scolds herself. "I'll be right there," she hears herself say and honestly, it's all that she really remembers herself saying.

It's a blur too: from her office to the car, the streamline mess of people and faces that she usually sees anyway. If she's even more honest with herself, she isn't this affected by work, regardless of Jessica's presence or not. The very idea that it's this close to home, related or not, terrifies her in a way that it hasn't before.

She can't blame Seohyun either.

The address brings her somewhere in the middle of the city. It's a dusty alleyway: a cluster of stores that form its own random marketplace. _Get your taxes done!_ yells one store front. An elderly couple hovers too by the flashing police lights, watching curiously. Taeyeon spots Hyoyeon first, talking to Forensics. Then, almost immediately after, there's Jessica standing behind police tape on the phone.

"You'll need these."

Hyoyeon is behind her. Hands her booties and gloves. Her expression is grim.

"That bad?"

Hyoyeon shakes her head. "I've seen a lot of things -" She whistles, rubbing her throat. "But, like, this tops it." Hyoyeon's eyes are dark and troubled. "It's _violent_ , you know? Like the guy is angry."

As if on cue, Jessica materializes besides them, equally troubled. She greets Hyoyeon with a curt nod and then meets Taeyeon's gaze. Her mouth twists and something passes between them.

"What do you think?" She asks Jessica.

"Let's see it first."

Taeyeon follows her then, dipping underneath the police tape first, only to hold it up and over Jessica's head. They walk side by side until they stop at an open door, greeting two officers blocking then entrance. Jessica stops and turns.

"You didn't eat, right?" She's teasing her and Taeyeon knows she's teasing her. Jessica's expression still remains serious.

"Let's go," Taeyeon murmurs.

Inside, the wall erupts immediately into a stark white. She's breathing heavily. Tufts of air puckering at her mouth. You're panicking, she tells herself and tries to keep her strides in line with Jessica. But she can see the precipitation sweating against the walls. Glares of spider webs, other bugs crusting against corners of the walls. It's then that the smell starts. Decomposition is a particular smell - it invades your senses slowly, painful, and even after years of confronting it, it still manages to unsettle her.

Taeyeon coughs and grasps Jessica's wrist. "Wait."

Jessica turns. Gone is the seriousness from before. In a brief, sharp moment, Jessica's expression crumbles with worry. Her mouth purse and Taeyeon feels her fingers tighten around her wrist.

"I'm okay."

"You're not."

Taeyeon shakes her head. "I'm okay," she insists.

"You're pale." Jessica's gentle. She touches her shoulder next. "We can take a minute."

Taeyeon can't answer. Her eyes squeeze shut. It's not a full-fledge panic attack. It's been awhile though: her heart rolling into inconsistent beats, her palms sweaty, and the room still feels like it's spinning. But Jessica doesn't move away. Doesn't press. Doesn't tell her to talk about. Instead, it's just a moment, a moment of rare, sparing vulnerability. You'll hate yourself later, she tells herself. 

It isn't until then that Jessica leans in, hovers, and presses her hands over her shoulders. Her fingers curl into her jacket and slowly Taeyeon opens her eyes as Jessica's mouth grazes her forehead.

She breathes.

"Let's go," she says.

Jessica nods. They move along the wall again; it seems to be a shorter path, from the wall to a door, then to another door and finally, a small room. The air tastes like it smells - pungent, at best, and it takes a little bit longer for Taeyeon acknowledge the amount of blood that covers the ground. Not just the ground, she realizes wide-eyed, but the walls and the door handle and the knees of the forensic analyst that is trying to gather trace from the floor.

Oh my god, she thinks. She shifts from foot to foot. Opens her mouth. Then closes it.

"It's insanity," Jessica murmurs next to her. "Rage and insanity." She finally pulls on her gloves. They snap against her wrists. "If you look," she says. "Really look - there are words and names and symbols. It's gibberish, mainly. I'll look a little closer after I get back to the office -"

"And the body?"

Jessica pauses. "Just a head," she says.

It's then that Taeyeon spots the tarp. The coroner steps aside to reveal not a body, but a head, a man's head. His eyes closed. His mouth printed into a serene expression. Taeyeon feels bile begin to rise against her throat.

"I don't -"

Jessica curls a hand around her wrist again. They stand there, staring at the head. There are a million different thoughts panicking into her head. It doesn't start with _how_ and _why_ seems rather redundant. Somehow, Taeyeon hears herself take a step forward and then another and another, right up until she's in front of the head, staring at it until she kneels and gently grazes her fingers along the man's closed eyes.

There's something that feels like a memory. It's indescribable. Mostly, the feeling sits and stirs things that she hasn't thought about in what feels like years. Her mind is twisting and suddenly, she spots herself as a small, lonely teenager pressed into a school uniform and clutching her books.

"This one," she murmurs. Her throat feels tight. "This one seems like it's more of a warning."

Jessica doesn't answer.

 

 

 

 

 

 

It's warm tonight.

Jihoon stands in front of the building. Presses his hands together anyway, rubbing his palms hard. There is a hole in his leather jacket now. His skin has long since dried. Blood is funny dried, he thinks. Looks more like mud than anything else. The most important part though is that he still feels it.

"Are you really going to do it?"

Startled, he remembers his earpiece. He touches his hip and remembers his phone too.

"Why? Don't believe me?" He scoffs and the laughter in his ear remains light. "You don't believe me," he mutters. "That's not nice, Seohyun-ah. You should always believe me."

But Seohyun continues to laugh.

He takes the stairs anyway. One step after the other, until the large, spaced _POLICE_ sign hovers over his hand. Instead, there's an eerie glow and a couple of officers move around. There are people too, coming in and out at a sluggish pace. No one knows, he thinks. At some point, Seohyun stops laughing.

"How did it feel, oppa?"

He snorts. "You know the answer."

"Tell me again anyway," she admonishes. “What’s in a name?”

"I gave you the cards," he says. He's almost gentle and hesitates, eyeing the officer that sits at an open desk. There's a small trashcan leaning against the side. "The answer's in the cards," he says again.

Jihoon pulls his ear buds out, then grasps them in a handful with his phone. He drops them quietly into the trashcan by the officer's desk, leaning into the edge as he waits for the younger man to look up at him. When he does, Jihoon stretches his hand out and slides them behind his head.

"I'd like to turn myself in," he says.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slowly but surely this is going to get done!
> 
> It's been a busy, crazy couple months - so thanks so much for sticking with this and me.


End file.
